A Grim Reminder
by Michikin
Summary: Do our memories determine who we are?
1. A Cry in the Dark

Chapter I- A Cry in the Dark 

            He stood alone in the midst of midnight's embrace. Sighing; taking in the full glory of nature's autumnal masterpiece. He marvelled as moonlight's soft beams illuminated the evergreens everywhere ascendant. He stared transfixed, viewing the mists shrouding the mountains beyond; wisps of white ebbing and flowing like the tides of a faraway sea.  This was one of the few pleasures still available to him, and certainly one that he would not fail to appreciate.  This was probably the last he would see of his beloved Eden before his journey. Hopefully, the task he would undertake would not bring them apart for too long.

            Only the whispering of the wind reached his ears. This night was a silent night indeed. The familiar cawing and cooing commonly complementing the majestic view was unusually muted. The virtuoso performers had long since gone south. 

            He liked it better this way. It calmed his thoughts and pacified the chaotic menagerie of nightmares that so often plagued him. For he was a man of many secrets, many fears and many enemies…

            A rustling of leaves nearby shattered the silence. His eyes darted quickly, bearing towards a nearby bush. He approached with almost serpentine stealth, and his countenance expressed relief as a startled jackrabbit scurried out and melted away into the darkness.

 He could not afford to be complacent. This was a freedom denied him long ago. Constant vigilance was now a necessity even in a hideaway so secluded. He could never tell when they would find out, when they would be back, when they would be after him once more.  

As the north wind whistled once again through the black forest, relief turned into agony. No, there was no threat; at least, none externally. The demon within however emerged once more uninvited, unstoppable, unrelenting.

Years of careful training had failed him yet again. Torrents of painful memories came flowing unbidden into his mind. Try as he might, he could not tune them out as he long ago could. He stumbled and clutched the earth despairingly as a powerful sensation surged through his soul. Was it guilt? Was he capable of guilt? Sometimes he wondered himself.

***

            Artemis awoke. Raven-black hair drenched in cold sweat, arms aquiver, eyes bloodshot. Tonight wasn't the best of nights. As Artemis staggered out of his bed, he desperately tried to make sense of it all.  A recurring dream, flashes of unfamiliar memories, premonitions of disaster- what could this all mean? Was it an admonition from the primal reaches of his subconscious, manifest in the nightly horrors he had to overcome? If so, what was it a warning of?

            Artemis had never recalled dreams so vivid, so entrenched in his memory. Well, maybe once, many months before. But then it was just childish fantasy, adventures with pixies, elves, goblins and centaurs- nothing really out of the ordinary. Artemis was, of course a believer- he always had been a connoisseur of the mystical, superstitious to the point of lunacy. But never, even in his childhood years did he experience such lucidity, such detail characterized in his nighttime odysseys.

            The nightmares of these few weeks had very little to do with those idle imaginings. Many a time had he got out of bed screaming only to see a bewildered Butler charge in, preparing to take down an imaginary assailant. Artemis did not wish to perturb him. He was of course his trusted friend and guardian- in the most literal sense.  But even the most professional of bodyguards need their rest and as far as he could tell, Butler wasn't getting much at all. This was a problem doubtless compounded by Artemis' midnight hysterics. Butler himself seemed to be developing irrational paranoia, sometimes barging into Artemis' room on account of a rustle of leaves in the garden, the hoot of an owl, or a light bulb burning out. Butler had even insisted that he and Juliet sleep in Artemis' room at night, as to provide further assurance of his safety. Artemis politely refused, and as a compromise, allowed him to shelter in a nearby storeroom.

            Things had become very strange indeed in the Fowl household, and Artemis could not fail to notice. In little ways, Artemis found the people around him acting unusually, Butler and his sister Juliet in particular both seemed a little out of character. Artemis knew that he too had become unexplainably moody, certainly not unaffected by the vile miasma plaguing those around him. 

            If anything good had come out from this strange turn of events, it was Artemis' repressed propensity to repeating his usual high-profile criminal feats.  The modern-day Macavity had developed an almost feline lethargy. He certainly seemed catlike in his new habits: lazing around in the sun almost until mid-morning, sitting incapacitated in front of the television the entire afternoon, nocturnal baths four or five times a night. Any responsible parent would be understandably worried, but thankfully Artemis' would be away for months owing to some business obligation. Artemis himself realised that he was behaving oddly and while others around him placed the blame on the effects of puberty, he preferred a more exotic explanation- nascent insanity. Not that this bothered him too much- most prodigies were at least mildly eccentric. 

            It was another four hours until sunrise, and he might as well make use of the time. Artemis dilly-dallied for a little while then got up and retrieved his bath towel, still damp from his last wash three hours prior.  He then reached for the door, right before it slammed painfully into his face.

"Ah, Butler," said Artemis, nursing his aching nose, "I've always admired your sense of urgency. Pray tell, what be the matter this time? Is it a rogue squirrel, scurrying threateningly in front of my window? Or maybe a cockroach making its way menacingly around the corridors? I tell you, Butler, if it weren't for your vigilance it's a wonder how I'd sleep at night. Oh, wait; I don't."

Butler didn't seem to be in the mood for Artemis' midnight wit. 

"Juliet is not feeling well."

"Really," Artemis retorted, callously. "Don't say I didn't warn her about that second serving of chilli tacos; she should've known-"

Artemis stopped mid-sentence. Somehow the imposing glare from the already imposing form of Butler was a hint that the matter did not at all involve tacos.

Butler regained his composure, gripped the waif-like frame of Artemis and looked him straight in the eye.

"Artemis, _she isn't breathing_."


	2. Abduction

            Chapter II- Abduction

Artemis hurried to the living room. There she lay, motionless, incapacitated by an unknown malady. Pale skin tinged with a grisly shade of blue. She _was_ breathing, but only in fits and starts. Shallow, laboured breath; forced, as if life itself was departing her lungs. Artemis hurriedly examined her pulse, heartbeat, anything that might provide a clue as to the nature of the problem. He found none. 

 "Butler, she needs expert medical assistance!" Artemis intoned, in desperation.  "Why didn't you just drive her to the hospital?"

            Butler placed himself in a chair nearby, hands covering his face. "I can't," he said, speech choked up and barely audible, "The doctor prescribed pills. Took them before I went to bed. They impair judgement. There's no way I can drive under these conditions…."

"Pills? I know you've been putting on a few pounds lately, but…"

"No, it's for my anxiety attacks." Explained Butler, in an almost embarrassed tone.

"Anxiety attacks?" Artemis frowned. Butler had always been a pillar of strength, in more ways than one. 

"Yes." Butler replied. "And regarding matters slightly more _pressing_, I've called an ambulance and they should be here any minute now…"

"They'd better be." 

Artemis glanced at the stricken form of Juliet Butler. Her inhalation had stopped once again. Artemis was almost glad to be spared the ghastly gasping, but he knew that she had lapsed into a far more precarious condition.  Moonlight's eerie glow illuminated her countenance, revealing an expression most serene.  Blonde hair was strangely unruffled; Juliet's lifeless figure more akin to one peacefully slumbering.

Butler tried to turn his eyes away. Both he and Juliet lived lives were constantly fraught with danger, yet not once had Butler imagined seeing his sister in this condition.  The feeling of powerlessness was overwhelming; difficult to face, for one used to being so powerful. 

"Pretty isn't she?" Butler's calm façade finally eroded, as a single tear came streaming down his cheek. 

"Yes, she is quite a looker. Still, I think I prefer her _conscious_." Artemis gritted his teeth and made another attempt to revive Juliet, to no avail. "How long has she been like this?"

"I don't know. She's just grown up so fast. I mean, one day you're helping with her diapers, and the next…." Butler choked up, attempting vainly to regain his composure. "I'd never thought we'd be close, with the age difference and all, but as the years went by, I--"

"Fascinating," Artemis interrupted. "But as absorbing as your maudlin rants are, I'd be more interested in procuring information that _might save your sister's life." _Artemis took a deep breath. "Now then, how long has she been incapacitated?"

"Think she woke up to get some water. Collapsed in corridors in front of my room with empty glass in hand. Brought her here, called the hospital, then got you. So ten minutes, tops. And no, this has never happened before. "

"There, that wasn't too hard, was it?" Artemis replied, dryly as he furrowed his brow. So it wasn't a case of choking; nor did it seem like anything else for that matter. Her heart rate was normal, so was her temperature and blood pressure. All her vital signs were going strong.  She might have gotten a clean bill of health but for the small matter that her breathing had stopped.  Flashes of red light shining through the paned windows interrupted Artemis' train of thought. 

"It's here." Said Butler in a relieved voice. Ambulance staff came rushing out of the vehicle, stretcher in hand. Butler got up and opened the door. Artemis and Butler were ushered out of the way as the paramedic took charge.

"Wow" Artemis couldn't help but comment, "The health service is much more efficient than I thought. Almost makes me feel sorry for cheating on dad's taxes every year…"

Butler wasn't paying attention. He had made his way to the ambulance, trying to see if his sister was all right.  Artemis followed him as the emergency staff frantically tried to load Juliet into the vehicle.

"Hey, grandpa, how 'bout getting your fat butt here and help out?" shouted the paramedic, none too politely.  

Butler looked a little miffed "For your information, I'm only…"

"Yeah, yeah. Listen, we've got a life to save here, and I think we've got a better chance if blondie here makes it in the E ward before Hanukah. And this means no long-winded old geezer stories. Okay?  Just get into the back and help us load her in."

Chastised, Butler opened the ambulance doors and stepped into the vehicle. Artemis couldn't help but feel that something was amiss, yet couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was the mood in which the emergency staff went about their business: they seemed almost too calm; almost uncaring in fact in the way they handled a life-or-death situation. Maybe it was due to the conspicuous absence of a siren's wail when the ambulance first arrived. Maybe it was the Azerbaijani licence plate.  Or maybe that the doors slammed shut before they loaded the stretcher in, with Butler still inside. The fact that the paramedic was sneaking up on him with a chloroform-bleached rag seemed mighty suspicious as well….

Artemis hit the floor.

***

            _Artemis searched. Left, right, front back there was simply no way out. Embers reached out to him from every direction; searing pain at every touch. The foul scent of sulphur assaulted his senses as he made his way through nauseating billows of black smoke, eyes sore, lips burnt, and skin raw and aching. Unsettling, unearthly darkness all around him, save the eerie glow of hellfire. Artemis muddled through, fighting his way past daggers of pain at every step, blind and helpless. He heard cries. Shrill voices begging for mercy. Some calling his name in hope of rescue. But where? How? Artemis stumbled, as the haunting voices resounded in his head._

_"Artemis" the distant voice seemed so familiar…_

_"Artemis?"_

_"Wake up!!"_

Artemis opened his eyes, and there, staring straight back at him was Juliet.

"Good, you're awake." She said. "I was getting worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Artemis stammered "But you- but I-, but…" Artemis took a moment to take it all in. "Wait a minute. If this is the afterlife, it looks suspiciously like the back seat of a limo."

And indeed it did.  Artemis and Juliet were seated on comfortable plush seats, with enough legroom to play twister in. There were heavily tinted glass windows on both sides, and a partition separated them from the front seats. Another set of tinted glass prevented them from looking at the driver; barely a silhouette could be seen. The limousine was moving at breakneck speed; unfortunately, the two occupants did not have much of a view.

"What's with the tinted bullet-proof glass?" Artemis muttered as he rapped the windows. "And the fancy car? And the fact that you're alive?"

"Huh?"

"You had serious respiratory problems. Your brother and I called an ambulance. I was drugged." 

"Serious respiratory problems? No way! I was getting a glass of water, I sort of dozed off, and when I woke up, I was here with you asleep beside me."

Artemis scowled. Whoever planned this had gotten into a lot of trouble. He had annoyed many powerful people in his short lifetime, but surely none with the resources and expertise to pull off anything like this.  And they had nothing to do but await a confrontation with an unknown foe. On the plus side, Juliet was alive.

"Artemis, I think we've been kidnapped!"

_Then again… _ "Hmm, let me think: drugged by paramedics, forced into a specially designed car, being taken to an unknown location, possibly outside the country... why, yes Juliet. I believe we have been kidnapped. Good call!"

No response. Artemis was starting to get irritated at people ignoring his sarcasm. He looked over his shoulder.

"Juliet, are you… crying?" Artemis was taken aback, to say the least. He had been through sticky situations with Juliet before, and in far greater peril than this.

Juliet looked back, eyes red, tears flowing unabated. "No, I just have something in my eye." 

"Yeah, right. What's in your eye? A freshwater spring?"

Once again, a moment of silence.

"Oh, Artemis, what have they done with my brother?" Juliet wailed.

Artemis sighed and shuffled over closer. "They've taken him too. Don't worry. You know as well as I do that he can take care of himself." Artemis said. "And Juliet?"

"Yes?"

"We'll get through this alive. I don't know who or what we're facing right now, but we'll find a way. We always have." Another tear streamed down Juliet's cheek. Artemis had never seen her like this. She could be many things, but never vulnerable.

Juliet flashed a weak smile. "Oh, all right then. " she said, finally. "You've not been like yourself lately, Artemis. I really think that's an improvement."

"_I've_ not been like myself? Artemis wondered inwardly. 

The limousine went along at a steady pace. Artemis could tell that the route they were going through had barely any traffic.  Other than that, the sounds from outside betrayed absolutely nothing about their location. The three hours that passed seem almost like an eternity.

"We're slowing down." Juliet exclaimed. And indeed they were, and soon the vehicle stopped completely.

_Clack! _ The doors on both sides became unlocked. Artemis and Juliet stared at each other. 

"Should I try the handle?" Juliet asked.

"Let's just stay here and play another five rounds of 'Twenty Questions'." Artemis retorted. "Yes Juliet, try the handle."

She complied, and the door swung open.


	3. Unresolved Mysteries

Unresolved Mysteries

A lonely figure treads scorched earth. 

Mulch looked at the wasteland around him. This particular corner of the Underworld was a place he would normally loathe to travel to, even in the best of times. A region inhabited almost exclusively by the Goblin clans; now, forsaken even by them.

            Derelict monuments jutting out of the ground, burnt black. Powdery ash littering the landscape as far as the eye could see. Once or twice Mulch came across a Goblin carcass, an experience that sickened him to the stomach. And he thought live Goblins were disgusting….

            Hard to believe that here once stood a busy, bustling boomtown. Life here was never pleasant, feuds and fights in all manner of description occurring almost constantly. It was a dreadful, decrepit place then, lawless, anarchic; teeming with inhabitants drawn from the lowest reaches of Underworld society.  It is a dreadful, decrepit place now, fallow, deserted; deathly silence everywhere reverberant.

            What a difference a week makes. 

            Something happened here in the past seven days, a disaster of unfathomable magnitude. This was a calamity as pernicious as it was sudden, leaving no survivors in its wake. Though, considering the reputation of its victims, not everyone agreed that this was a bad thing…

He had volunteered to go on a reconnaissance mission. The LEP had their hands full: scurrying about, evacuating more respectable folks living nearby, lest a second tragedy occur. So the thankless task of finding out what exactly had happened in this sorry wilderness fell on Mulch's sturdy shoulders.

            Mulch took his assignment gladly, and even insisted that he carry it out alone. He had his hidden agenda, wishing to make the best of this opportunity to reclaim what was rightfully his, and then maybe some booty on the side. Mulch had been robbed recently, and he knew that his belongings would almost certainly resurface here, in this festering den of thieves.  Casting a glance at the aftermath of devastation, Mulch wondered why he had even bothered. Surely nothing could survive this catastrophe. Not a soul alive, not a structure left standing. Mulch began to fear that his three pairs of socks and gold nose ring collection would be gone for good. And, perhaps more importantly, that the disc containing the memories of Artemis Fowl would be lost to him forever.

***

            Juliet and Artemis stepped out. There were in a small room, barely large enough to hold the limousine they had arrived in.  A single stairwell seemed to be the only exit, leaving no indication of how the vehicle had entered. The four walls were tiled with ancient brick; the floor was solid rock and up above them was a magnificent marble dome. 

            Artemis stared at the limousine in utter amazement. There was no sign of a driver. In fact, there was no sign of a driver's seat. Peering through the dashboard, he could see flashing lights, meters, monitors, and mechanical arms. _Fully automated_. Artemis let out a low whistle.  Whoever took them here had taken the trouble to advance automobile technology ten years in the process.

            Artemis probed the walls. Mildew-stained bricks revealed absolutely nothing.  No cracks, crevices; no sign of secret panels or hidden doors_.  How on earth did the car get in?_

So many questions left unanswered. The peculiarity of Juliet's sudden illness was doubtless instigated by the enigmatic conspirators.  So was the ambulance heist; an ingenious plot for which success was dependent on their ability to tamper with the hospital's emergency hotline. Their methods and identity remained a complete mystery to the young genius. And this frightened him. Artemis was used to being on top of every situation. Now he felt he was facing a power far greater than any he had previously encountered.

            "Where are we?" Juliet asked.

            "For all I know we're in Malibu."

            "Ooh Malibu. You know, I've been there once; it was great! Surf, sand, sun, and not to mention the lifeguards." said Juliet dreamily. 

            "Juliet, I do hope you realise that we are in mortal peril," remarked Artemis.

            "Really? I thought you said we're in Malibu."

             "No, Juliet, I mean our lives are in great danger. We are utterly helpless, in the hands of captors who have both the means and the expertise to eliminate us if they so desire. But I think they want us alive, for now at least." Artemis sighed wearily.  "I could use some of those anxiety pills."

            "Anxiety pills?"

            "Your brother was taking them on prescription without my knowledge. He didn't even tell you?"

            "Well, I suppose he didn't want us to worry about his health. You can't really blame him."

            "_Can't really blame him? _Juliet, he's the reason we're in this mess. Bodyguards don't take mind-altering drugs without informing their employers; that's gross negligence.  In fact, I"-

            Juliet gave him a sharp slap. 

            "Artemis, what's gotten into you?" she thundered. Artemis always had the knack of getting under the skin, but he was never this mean, especially not to her brother.

            "What's gotten into me? I think it was your right palm…" Artemis deadpanned, still reeling from the powerful blow. He realised he had probably deserved it and putting all the blame on Butler was unfair. Artemis knew he was not himself, but then again who was? When had Juliet become so high-strung, or Butler so careless? Artemis muttered an apology, but was then interrupted by heavy footsteps.

            "Dear me, up in arms already?" came a voice deep within the stairwell. Soon, there emerged a well-built man with Slavic features looking about thirty years of age: with dark hair, piercing eyes, and determined posture. Alongside him scurried a smaller fellow, whom Artemis guessed was probably South American in origin.

            "We left two adolescents in an enclosed space for three hours without supervision. This is not the worst thing that could have happened." Remarked the small man, displaying a cheeky grin. 

            Artemis and Juliet glanced at each other, neither knowing what to make of the sudden appearance of their captors.

            "Oh, forgive me, where are my manners?" said the other man. " Introductions are very much in order. My name is Antiochus Grimm, and this is my assistant, Sergio."

            "Charmed." Said Artemis, unenthusiastically. 

            "And you must be Artemis Fowl. We are so privileged to have you here as our special _guest_."

            Artemis was beginning to find the false pleasantries rather unnerving. He considered, for a brief second making a break for it down the stairs. He shook his head. What exactly would that accomplish?

            "And who is this lovely lady?" Grimm asked, as he approached Juliet. 

            "Juliet Butler." Replied Sergio  "She's the… Senõr?" 

            Artemis made a quick glance at Grimm's features. His face was contorted in an expression of abject horror: pale, eyes widened, lips quivering. He stumbled back, as if from shock and then quickly regained his composure. Juliet, for her part just looked puzzled.

            "Juliet Butler. Yes, of course. Thank you Sergio." Grimm continued, as if nothing at all had happened.  Artemis furrowed his brow. The matter was getting more curious than ever.

            "I suppose you'd both like to know why you are here."

            "Actually, what I'd like to know is the direction of the bathroom. A three-hour journey with no toilet breaks? What were you thinking?" asked Artemis in jest.

            Grimm ignored him. "I had sought the honour of your presence in order to assist me in the pursuit of a particular interest of mine… "

            A sinister smile emerged as he paused for dramatic effect. 

             "…_Fairies_."

***

            Mulch clambered into the caverns. The smog outside was worsening so he sought shelter in the caves. Perhaps he would also find some bounty here; after all, it was not uncommon for those pesky Goblin raiders to hide their haul deep under the earth. 

            His eyes perked up as he spied a faint glimmer from within the darkness. Perhaps his visit here was not in vain after all. Mulch scrambled into the lower reaches.

            To his surprise and dismay, the source of the light was not gold. Rather he found, huddled around a soft flame, shadowy figures in heated discussion.

            _Survivors?_ No, these folks were too large to be Goblins. They were too large to be fairies of any sort. Were they human? Surely no humans would manage to venture this deep into the Underworld under the fairies' noses? Did they- whoever they were- have anything to do with the strange occurrences here?  Mulch hid behind a rock as he strained carefully to hear their conversation.

            "… But I'm sure you would all agree, gentlemen that the operation was a huge success." Proclaimed one of the cloaked figures, apparently the leader. The rest responded with murmurs of approval.

            One dissenting voice spoke up. "Not entirely. There is still the matter of Artemis Fowl."

            Mulch gasped. What did Artemis Fowl have to do with anything?

            "It has all been taken care of." Came the leader's dismissive response.

            "But we have reports that-"

            "Your reports are absolute twaddle. And may I suggest, Clavius that in the future you show proper respect to the Seer of the _Illuminati." _interrupted the leader, sharply.

            Clavius backed down. "Yes, my Liege. I seek mercy."

            "Granted. Moving on: Mulbridge, I note with dismay that your Scavengers have turned up nothing of interest."

            "As was only to be expected, my Liege. You have to consider the location; we were never likely to locate any targets." Mulbridge answered. "But I'm sure all of the treasures we have here count for something."

_            Treasures? _Mulch peered carefully past the rock. Sure enough, on the cavern floor precious gemstones of all shape and size were strewn about, almost carelessly. Doubtless these were collected from the hidden fortunes of the unfortunate Goblin rogues. One particularly large emerald lay invitingly on the ground, not far from Mulch's hiding place. Mulch reached greedily for the gem, and found it slightly out of his reach. He tried once more, eyes gleaming, stretching as far as his stocky arms would allow. The inevitable happened, as – to his horror – his feet slipped. Mulch came tumbling down and found himself at the feet of the mysterious figures. There was a moment of startled silence, finally broken by the chilling voice of the Seer.

            "It appears we have a _visitor_." 


	4. Antiochus Grimm

            Antiochus Grimm

Artemis and Juliet were led to a grand dining hall, complete with elegant medieval tapestry hanging on the walls and a magnificent chandelier hanging overhead. Beams of sunlight shone through the stained-glass windows enhancing an already majestic atmosphere. Before them was a set of silver cutlery on a regal oak table. 

            Artemis thoughts were all awhirl. There they were, led willingly, without restraint as if they were indeed guests in this splendid mansion. Artemis' nimble mind, for a moment entertained plans of escape. But, despite the apparent lack of precautions their captors had taken to prevent this possibility, Artemis dared not put anything to action. He was, in fact a little intimidated by the sheer daring of the men he was facing. The remarkable abduction scheme, accomplished with precision planning and state of the art technology was something that even he would be proud of. The risks taken to bring them here were enormous; and for what? To talk about fairies?

            Artemis had always been a firm believer in the paranormal. Fairies, in particular had long captured his interest. He had sought to find ways to prove their existence and indeed had a long-forgotten plan drawn up some time ago to accomplish this. Interest had however waned the past few months; Grimm's apparent fervour seemed to be just the thing to rekindle the passion.  Artemis wondered if this was the real reason he was playing along with Grimm: perhaps they shared a common yearning to believe in a world beyond their own.

            Behind Artemis, Grimm had ambled down the stairs in a most gentlemanly manner: perfect posture, quiet footsteps emphasizing the old-world charm he so generously exuded. Sergio scurried ahead of them impatiently in an almost ferret-like fervency. 

            Artemis glanced at Juliet, who immediately looked away. It was evident that they were not on speaking terms right now. Artemis frowned. He would certainly need her cooperation if things turned nasty. Maybe he had been just a little harsh on Butler…

            "Please, take a seat. The meal will be ready shortly." invited Grimm in a disarmingly cheerful tone. "We're having the house specialty today: filet mignon, medium rare."

            Sure enough, a peach-orange metallic mechanized trolley soon rolled in from the entrance. On its surface were four plates of sumptuous steak and four glasses of water.

            "Meals on wheels," Artemis muttered, "looks like somebody's been keeping up with the Jones's"

            Of course, a wheeled robotic table was no mean technological feat. Artemis was sure he could get one up and running himself with a few hours worth of tinkering in the garage, possibly with a more tasteful colour scheme. But if the entire evening's episode was designed to impress him, it certainly succeeded. This Grimm was no ordinary adversary.

            Artemis stared at the contents of his plate, wondering whether or not it would be wise to accept Grimm's kind invitation.  Artemis shook his head, deciding it was unlikely that the meal was laced. Grimm has had enough opportunity to kill him, and would probably want to deal him death in a more gruesome, imaginative and fun way than by poisoning. 

            Juliet had apparently reached the same conclusion and was already digging in. Grimm and Sergio were carving up their steaks. Artemis was about to do the same when a chunk of meat hit him squarely on the forehead.

"Dear me, that's rather unladylike behaviour" Grimm commented dryly. 

As the chewed-up piece of beef slowly slid down his face, Artemis could not fail to notice Juliet's cheeks turning from green to bright red. It certainly was an embarrassing moment for poor Juliet, but Artemis couldn't help but marvel at the distance that girl could spit…

"This steak is absolutely revolting," Juliet fumed. She then took one look at Artemis and giggled an apology. "Oh, and sorry, Artemis."

Artemis glared at her as he wiped off the last of the chunks off his brow.

"It can't be that bad, surely?" Grimm pondered, as he lifted a piece into his mouth. 

Grimm chewed on his piece for a little while, and then calmly swallowed. He then turned to Sergio, who was seated right beside him.

            "The salt is in the blue packets, right?"

"No, Senõr. Salt is in the brown packets. Blue packets contain _coffee."_

"Coffee, Sergio?"

"Si Senõr."

Grimm let out a hearty laugh. "Well, thank goodness this little mystery's been cleared up. Now we can get back to dinner." 

"Dinner?" Artemis gave him an incredulous look. "You expect us to finish this?"

"Why not? You're not allergic to coffee, are you?"

Artemis decided against arguing and chewed upon the gruesome concoction, deep in thought. He didn't think the comedy routine looked deliberate, but he had difficulty believing that the man who carried out his complex kidnapping so flawlessly could not distinguish salt from coffee. Antiochus Grimm was a very strange man indeed, even to an Artemis Fowl who had met more than his fair share of eccentrics. Still, Artemis reasoned that he had better oblige him, and braced himself as he swallowed.

Juliet however was far less accommodating.

"I am NOT eating this slop!" she insisted. "And you are not going to make me."

She said this with more than a hint of malice, and Artemis was at once apprehensive as to how Grimm and Sergio to react. "_We are still prisoners and they are still captors, no matter how much they try to pretend otherwise…" _ Artemis hissed, but Juliet pretended not to hear him.

Much to Artemis' relief Grimm and Sergio didn't seem to make too much of Juliet's rebuke. 

"Senõr Grimm insists that he prepares your meals himself, for security reasons. He takes great pride in his culinary skills, and has put a lot of effort into today's meal. Filet Mignon cooked with coffee maybe a bit… unusual but I'm sure it's at least palatable." intoned Sergio calmly. Artemis could not help but notice that Sergio had discreetly shoved the contents of his plate into a nearby potted plant.

"Security reasons?" Juliet asked.

Grimm put his fork down. There was a foreboding, dark look in his face. "There are people out there after me, possibly after you too. I cannot tell you anymore, but we have to be careful- and you will have to trust me." 

"Why yes sir, of course. A strong feeling of mutual trust is important in any kidnapper-abductee relationship." said Artemis, sarcastically.

            Not for the first time, Grimm ignored Artemis.

"Please, do finish your meal. You'll need your strength; we have a lot of activities planned for you."

"Activities?"

Grimm took a sip off his glass, the put it down and flashed a menacing smile.

"Perhaps I'd better explain. I've brought you here because you both have had previous encounters with fairies…"

Juliet rolled her eyes. "No, we haven't. I don't recall-"

"Yes, exactly! You don't recall anything!" Grimm stopped her in mid sentence, with excitement bordering on manic vigour. "I have reason to believe that your memories have been tampered with; replaced, removed.  The fairies did this to keep their existence secret. But we- Sergio and I have come across certain _methods_ to recover those hidden recollections."

            Artemis pondered this for a moment. Strangely, he found it all vaguely plausible. There have been times where he had felt that things were going awry inside is head- flashes of memory which seemed out of place, unfamiliar recollections of faces and places, inappropriate outbursts of emotion- could these be signs of brainwash? 

            Not word was spoken as they finished their meals. Artemis cast a look at Juliet. She was eating her steak, wincing at every bite; apparently deciding to give in seeing as that no other food was available. "Probably a wise decision." Artemis thought to himself. "We need to keep their strength to face whatever lies ahead."

            After around half an hour, Grimm was the last to conclude his dinner. He then stood up and after a short pause announced "Sergio, lead our guests to their rooms. Our first session will start in an hour."

Sergio nodded. He beckoned Artemis and Juliet to follow him as he set out for one of the long corridors. They hesitated for a moment, and then complied.

"I'll have to find out a little more before making my move." Artemis muttered to no one in particular. "Things are getting interesting. To escape now would be… premature."

Artemis could not help but notice Grimm, still in his dining chair, staring, almost wistfully in Juliet's direction as she strode down the dark corridor. This in itself was nothing unusual- Juliet certainly had her admirers. But Grimm had on his face not the expression of passionate longing or lecherous desire evident in most of Juliet's male devotees, but instead a deep, solemn, ominous look that Artemis couldn't quite put his finger on. 

_Was it fear?_


	5. Silver Valley

Not far beyond the ramshackle goblin ghettos lies an oasis of affluence, known by most of the underworld simply as the Silver Valley. The denizens of the Silver Valley are a rather more respectable lot, famous far and wide for their hospitality, warmth and good cheer. The source of their wealth is the famous ore mines, practically ubiquitous in the rolling plains. The precious mines were their source of providence for many generations and as they hoped, would be for many generations to come. They are grateful for them as they are grateful for their majestic mountain borders which serve as their fortress protection from the envy of less happier lands. The Silver Valley fairies were never invulnerable, however from sporadic raids from the goblins of the Ghetto, so news of their neighbors' destruction provoked at worst a mixed response.

There was talk of little else in the town, for though they might seem a world apart, the hellish Ghetto was but a half-day's journey from the paradise of Silver Valley.  Though the goblins' complete and utter annihilation was seen by many as an unexpected blessing, there was more than a whimper of disapproval at what the cataclysm brought with it.

The fairies of the Silver Valley are a peculiar lot. Centuries separated from the rest of the underworld by the imposing Vulcan mountain range have forged in them a strong sense of independence. The famed kindly spirit of the Valley fairies extended only to the weary traveller staying the night or the unfortunate mountaineer frostbitten in a futile conquest of a Vulcan mount. They resent any form of authority imposed by outsiders, and the banners of the LEP are as unwelcome here as they were in the darkest corners of the old Ghetto.

Commander Root paced nervously under the canopy of his temporary headquarters.  His mission here was in jeopardy, in no small part to the uncooperativeness of the Valley fairies. He was here to commence a massive evacuation exercise, in wake of the obliteration of the Ghetto. But the denizens of the Valley didn't seem to appreciate the possibility that such a disaster would happen to their beloved Valley. Was the calamity not punishment of the ghetto's many sins? There wasn't a single miner or merchant in the Valley who questioned the hand of Providence in slaying the rogues, why would it now turn on them?

Root took a deep breath.

 "Spool," he addressed the young elf corporal standing just beside the entrance. "Give me a report on the progress in the southwest sector."

Spool cleared his throat. He was a bright prospect in the LEP, one of Root's most promising recruits. He was born and bred in the Silver Valley and as one of the few Valley fairies in the LEP, his contribution here would be vital. Root knew this, and had hoped that the presence of one of their kinsmen in charge of the mission would pacify the indignant Valley fairies.

"The dwarves in the southwest sector refuse to leave the mines, Sir. The chieftain has sent us a message declaring his refusal to cooperate, but unfortunately it contains some umm, undesirable terms.…"

Commander Root buried his face in his hands. "Great, is there any way things could get any worse?"

"Oh, plenty sir. A mob of drunken centaurs could break in and start defecating in your sleeping quarters in protest. Vandals could go around town spraying 'Root is a fuddy-duddy' on the building walls. A horde of disgruntled elves might-" 

"Rhetorical question, Spool"

"Sorry Sir, I do get carried away at times."

Root sighed, and slumped into a chair. He didn't really think the mission was necessary either. But orders from upstairs were to evacuate everyone to a nearby centaur village. They didn't want an encore of whatever struck the ghetto to wipe out the entire valley population. Root personally felt that the cataclysm was caused by a quartzic detonator mishandled by the ignorant ghetto dwellers. Surely no natural disaster would do so much damage…

"Oh, Sir, I have some other reports" said Spool, interrupting Commander Root's train of thought. "Do you remember that dwarf you sent to scout the ghetto?"

"Dwarf?" Root was puzzled for a moment. "Oh, you mean Mulch? I sent him away so he'd keep his noses off the contents of the silver mint here, while we're moving them to a safe place. You have no idea how much havoc that rascal could cause if he was busybodying around. Frankly, he was the one who wanted to go, strange fellow he is. I was very glad to see the back of him, though."

"Well, err, there's someone here to see you about him-"

Spool was interrupted as a shabbily dressed goblin with a huge knapsack on his back rushed in, tripped over a chair and fell face down on the hard cement floor. Root and Spool were still stunned when the familiar figure of Holly calmly stepped in and waved a hello to Root.

"Holly, what is the meaning of this?" Root inquired in an irritated tone.

Spool responded brightly. "Well Sir, the wave of the hand is a practice with human origin, and its intended purpose is normally to be a gesture of friendship. I think it's her way of saying…"

"Shut up, Spool"

'Yes Sir"

Holly glanced quizzically at the pair for a moment, before recounting in an urgent tone.

"I was following Mulch" Holly said, "you know you can't trust him; so I was wondering what he was up to in the ghetto.  I was keeping an eye on him but I lost track when a huge sandstorm blew. "

"And?" Root was getting impatient.

"I found him in the end. Or rather, Furt did."  
  


Commander Root and Spool turned towards the goblin, still lying face down on the ground.

"Furt, you can get up now…" implored Holly, impatiently.

Furt quickly stood up. Spool recoiled in revulsion. "A ghetto goblin…" he hissed.

"Yes, a ghetto goblin." Holly continued. "The only survivor of the disaster.  I found him after the sandstorm resided, with Mulch in his arms."

"How romantic." Root commented sardonically. "Now where is the rascal? I bet he's halfway through the mint's coffers already…"

"Don't bet on it." Holly said quietly.

"He certainly won't. Gambling is strictly prohibited in the LEP code of honour. As our revered leader, Commander Root has always been a shining example of…"

"Shut up, Spool." said Holly and Root simultaneously

. 

Furt opened his knapsack and the crumpled body of Mulch tumbled out. His face was barely recognizable, with black burn marks all over his skin.  His eyes were like those of dead fish, staring blankly into space. His mouth was contorted into and expression of pure terror. He breathed, but his gasps for air were shallow and irregular.

Nobody said anything for a few moments before Commander Root broke the silence. "I thought he was ugly before," he muttered. "Did you try healing?"

"I did" Holly replied. "Nothing worked."

"Well, he's certainly not dead." Root continued. "Not entirely sure that's a good thing. But what could have possibly caused…"

"Furt found this too." Holly handed a curious piece of metal to Corporal Spool, who examined it thoroughly.

"Sir, it's a circuit board." Spool gasped. "And by design it looks…"

Spool paused for a moment as he took the information in. His eyes widened as he reached his conclusion.

"…_human_"

"Human? That's not possible!" Commander Root scoffed. "Unless…"

Commander Root glanced meekly at Holly, and suggested hesitantly. "Artemis Fowl? Would he…?"

A dark look entered Holly's expression. "I certainly hope not." She finally let out. But I think we'd better call Foaly…

Root reached for his communicator. It was very old technology by fairy standards but Commander Root was never comfortable with new-fangled gadgets. He fiddled with a few buttons and then waited for a response.

All he got was static. 

"That's strange; it worked fine a few hours ago…"  Root muttered.

Suddenly they heard a crackle from the communicator, too soft to be intelligible. Root thumped the machine with his fist, and pressed his head against the earpiece until he could hear Foaly's faint voice through the static.

"Well, can you get through?" Holly asked, impatiently.

Root put down the communicator, with a look of panic in his eyes.

"Foaly was on the emergency frequency," Root gasped. "She says the fortress _is under attack…"_


End file.
